The Long Road Home
by Traycer
Summary: Sam and Daniel are stranded on a planet, which leads them to building a life together in their new home. SamDaniel pairing
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Written for the Sam/Daniel ficathon on LiveJournal and is very angsty and kind of sad (minor character death), so you may need some tissues, but it does have a semi-happy ending. :) This story also contains Sam/Daniel ship, so those who are squeamish, please be warned!

Special thanks go out to Diane who went out of her way to do a super fast beta for me on this story. Words cannot describe how much I appreciate her!!

Summary: Sam and Daniel are stranded on a planet, which leads them to building a life together in their new home

* * *

The Long Road Home  
by Traycer 

She was dying. The fever that raged within her was like an inferno, causing her to sweat even as she shivered under the mound of blankets. She tried to swallow, but very little moisture leaked down her parched and raw throat, and she whimpered when the swollen muscles in her throat sent out waves of pain.

"Shhhh," said a soft voice, as a cool rag was placed on her forehead. She relished in the temporary relief, as she lay there with her eyes closed, hardly able to even move, while she savored the cool air that caressed the wetness left behind on her skin. The rag was gently moving across her forehead, her cheeks and her throat, up and down, ceasing only to be dunked and wrung out in the bowl of water by her bed, then continuing in an ever moving circle.

"You're going to get well very soon," the voice of her mother continued, the soothing tones helping her to relax. "I promise. You just need to hang on, okay?"

She didn't respond. She was too weak to even nod her head, but more importantly, she was too afraid that movement would bring on the cough, something she dreaded with all her might. The pain she experienced whenever she coughed was the worse. Nothing equaled the agony of her chest and throat muscles contracting as her lungs forced out the mucus and phlegm that lingered there.

She lay quietly, too miserable to converse with anybody, while silently wishing she could fight this illness. Her mother continued to wipe her down, alternately soothing her feverous skin and begging her to hold on, leaving her to wonder when her father would get back. He had gone off to find the healer, and she thought he should have returned by now, although she really couldn't say how long he had been gone. She was just so tired of the pain. If only they would stop the pain.

"It won't be long baby, I promise. Please, please just stay with me, okay? Please?"

Her mother had finally given into her tears. She wanted to comfort her, but she was still too afraid. She lay there with her eyes closed, listening to her mother's tears, and realized that she must be dying, just like the others. Her chest heaved suddenly as she coughed, tears streaming down her face as she struggled to suppress it, then finally gave into it when she found that she couldn't stop. Pain and agony raced through her chest and throat, but she rode it out, too weary to fight it. Her mother's soft touch smoothed over her forehead, talking to her through the ordeal, helping her to lie back down when it was finally over. But she continued to cry as she lay on her back, the pain still throbbing everywhere, while her mother pushed her over and got into the bed with her, gathering her in her arms to hold her close.

She was dying and she wondered how to tell her mother that she was ready for it.

* * *

Her daughter was dying. Samantha Carter knew this, even as her heart sent out pleas of denial. As much as she had tried to shelter her child from the plague that had swept through the village, it still found her and moved in for the kill. Nothing she did helped keep her family safe, and now she was going to pay the ultimate sacrifice. 

She lay on the bed, holding her daughter close; wondering for the thousandth time what was keeping Daniel. He had gone off to find one of the healers, but with so many people needing their expertise, she wasn't sure if Daniel would be successful. Still, if he could at least bring back some of the remedies the healers were using, maybe she could keep her daughter alive long enough for her to beat this thing. She had to. Sam couldn't imagine life without her bright, energetic little girl. She looked over at the child of her heart and realized that she may have no choice in the matter. Grief settled in deeper, as these traitorous thoughts ran through her mind. She couldn't lose her daughter. Her family meant everything to Sam.

She stroked her daughter's hair, as she thought about this beautiful child and how she had come to be. She and Daniel had been part of a top-secret program that revolved around a device that allowed interplanetary travel. They had been part of a team of soldiers and scientists who went through the Gate on a regular basis to find out what lay beyond the stars and they had been traveling from one planet to another for many years before she and Daniel had been temporarily assigned to join up with another team. They were going to negotiate over the rights to a mine that yielded a wealth of minerals, as well as a strange metal that had piqued the interest of her superiors. Sam was sent to do an in-depth analysis of the metal, while Daniel's negotiating talents were needed in talking with the natives. It seemed that they would only talk to someone who understood their traditions and laws; and since Daniel was well versed in the cultures of a great many people, he fit the bill perfectly.

They had arrived during an electrical storm, the likes of which Sam had never seen. Lightning had flashed across the sky, crisscrossing other bolts, resulting in a colorful display of blues, yellows and greens. The lightning swirled around them continuously, as they made their way through the mud to get to the nearest shelter, and they were glad when they had finally reached it. Thunder boomed occasionally, while the wind blew over the landscape, scattering leaves and anything else that was not bolted down. It was just a storm, she had thought, as she stared at it through the door of the house where they had taken shelter. There was nothing to worry about.

But she was wrong. The storm raged throughout the night, complete with huge hailstones that clattered on the roof, while the wind picked up to become strong enough to uproot several trees, the creaking and crashing noises they made adding to the already noisy hailstones. She and the team who had accompanied her through the Stargate had to resort to waiting out the storm, before they could get any sleep. And when morning came, they had found a blackened and very dead DHD standing in front of an equally damaged Stargate. "This is not possible," she had muttered over and over again, as she surveyed the damage. All thoughts of her mission were forgotten as she tried to make sense of what had happened and what she needed to do to fix it. "The Stargate was built to be indestructible," she said when Daniel had gotten tired of hearing her litany. "This is not possible."

A whimper brought Sam out of her musings and all thoughts went to the child in her arms. She was so sick, and the thought of losing her brought tears to Sam's eyes. She wanted more than anything to cure her child, but just as she had found out with the Stargate, some things just weren't meant to be fixed. After several weeks of failing to fix the DHD and the Stargate, she and the rest of her comrades finally came to the conclusion that they were stranded, with no options of even communicating with the SGC. They were stranded, and even after nine years of living on this planet, she still had no idea what had happened to literally destroy an indestructible Stargate.

She looked down at the little girl lying next to her, and marveled at how much she looked like Daniel. Her dark hair and blue eyes had been inherited from him, but it was the shape of her mouth and her ever-inquisitive nature that made her "Daddy's girl". Sam smiled sadly as she thought about her daughter's father. He had been a constant source of encouragement throughout her efforts to fix the disabled Stargate and DHD. His belief in her fueled her attempts to find out what was wrong and how to fix it, while his words of consolation told her that he didn't blame her for her failure when she had finally realized that they were not going anywhere. They had grown close over the years of creating their new lives, and it seemed a natural course of action when they took their friendship to a more intimate level. They were married in a ritual that brought them closer to their native neighbors and Sam gave birth to their daughter nearly a year later. They had named her Claire, after Daniel's mother, who had died when Daniel was just a child. The irony of his mother dying at a young age did not escape Sam as she worried over the woman's namesake.

Her daughter whimpered in pain, too weak to do much else. Sam listened to the whimpers, wishing with all her heart that she could make things better. She moved closer to her daughter, pulling her up so that she was lying on Sam's arm, while Sam held her close. She was terrified, scared out of her mind that Daniel wouldn't get back in time, that their sweet little baby was going to die and leave Sam to face a void that would never be filled. This was her worst fear come true, but Sam was determined to fight it to the very end. She just couldn't lose her baby.

Silence filled the air as her daughter settled back down. Sam held her tightly, while she stroked her hair, praying with all her might that this was just a setback. The plague had swept through the village, choosing its victims at random, leaving a devastating trail of death and grief. She and Daniel had thought that their little family was safe from the epidemic, as they had so far escaped the illness that ravaged its victims. There was no rhyme or reason as to why some people became ill and others didn't, Sam was just thankful that it bypassed her household.

But the illness struck anyway, discounting Sam's thoughts that they might be immune because they were not of this world. She and Daniel weren't natives, and Sam hoped that meant the odds were good that they passed on whatever it was that kept them healthy to their children. But her firstborn was deathly ill, and Sam was now faced with the possibility of losing her daughter.

Her thoughts were suddenly interrupted when she heard the front door open, and she hurried to slip out of the bed, careful to not waken her sleeping daughter. She rushed out to find Daniel hanging up his coat, while brushing the rain out of his hair. He was so handsome, she thought, as she watched him turn toward her. His hair had grown long since the last time she tried to trim it, but that didn't distract from the rugged look he had grown into, cultivated by the hard life they had to live in order to forge out their new home. She stared at him anxiously, wondering if had accomplished what he had set out to do. The fact that he was alone confirmed her fears about the healers, but maybe he was still able to procure the medicines that would ease their daughter's agony.

The haunted look that he gave her told her everything. He hadn't been successful. "What happened?" she asked, as a familiar anger flamed within her heart. How could he do this to her? Their daughter was dying, and he comes back empty handed? She walked up to him, her eyes never leaving his face, suddenly realizing that maybe she was jumping to the wrong conclusion. "Did you get some medicine?"

He nodded, as he stared back at her. Despite Sam's thoughts on how handsome her husband was, they had been having some problems with their marriage. She loved him dearly, but sometimes they seemed distant, as if there was something hanging over them. She supposed it was just that they had grown too familiar with each other, but it still worried her that they might be growing apart.

He reached for a small leather pouch that he had set on the table, and offered it to her, as he continued to watch her carefully. Sam took the bag and opened it to see what was in it, but looked up instead when Daniel asked, "How is she?"

"Not good," Sam told him. "Her fever just won't go down and she just cries whenever she has to cough." Daniel gave a small nod, as his gaze went to the door of their daughter's room. His face was pale, and Sam's heart lurched when she realized that he might be ill. "Are you okay? You're not feeling feverish or anything, are you?" His forehead felt cool to the touch, but that didn't mean anything. He had just come in from the cold.

"I'm fine Sam," he said, his voice tinged with just a little exasperation. "I stopped by to check on Ethan on my way back." Sam's ears perked up at the mention of her son, who was three years younger than Claire. He had been sent off to stay with some friends when his sister had become ill, and Sam missed him terribly. "He's doing great," Daniel added. "Not even a sniffle." Sam breathed a small sigh of relief, as she nodded gratefully at her husband. At least Ethan had escaped the horrors that accompanied the plague's symptoms.

"What a relief," she said, as she looked into the pouch that Daniel had brought with him. It was filled with a powdered substance that Sam knew to be the local's version of a healing tea. She stood there for a moment, staring at the powder, while anger built back up in her soul. "This is it?" she finally asked incredulously. "A powder? Our daughter is dying and all you bring me is a powder?" Her voice had risen with every word, until she was nearly shouting, while Daniel's face took on a rebellious look.

"That's all they would give me," Daniel said calmly, obviously trying to placate her, but she was too incensed to think rationally. "They said it would ease some of the pain."

"Oh well, isn't that just great," Sam snarled at him, as she angrily pulled the strings to close the pouch. "She's dying, Daniel. Our little girl is dying and there isn't a thing I can do to save her."

"I know, Sam. I tried…"

"Oh, you tried all right. And all you brought was a powder that really doesn't even work. We've tried this stuff before, and all it did was make you nauseous." She couldn't believe that the healers would just give her something to ease the symptoms, while her daughter lay dying. "You should have brought one of them with you."

"Nothing short of shooting them would have convinced them to come with me," Daniel said, his eyes blazing with anger. "And believe me when I say that I wanted to."

"But you didn't." Tears of frustration leaked out, but Sam didn't try to stop them. "She's dying, Daniel. I know she is. Oh God, what am I going to do." She was openly crying now. Her grief was just too great to even try to ignore. Daniel came up to hold her, but Sam didn't want his help. She pulled away angrily and went over to the fireplace to fix the drink for her daughter. Sam didn't really have much faith in the medicine that the healers sent with Daniel, but she was willing to give anything a try, especially if it would ease the pain. She wiped away at the tears, as she poured the steaming water into a cup, wondering if she should just go find the healers herself.

"I tried Sam," Daniel told her again. Sam didn't know if she believed him or not. "But there are so many people who need their help." She ignored him as she set the cup on a plate, then went over to a box set up on the floor and opened the lid to pull out a few ice cubes. She had rigged this up herself, after several years of drinking lukewarm water. She dropped the cubes into the cup, hating herself for being smart enough to rig up a freezer, but not able to find a cure for her own daughter. "There's not a whole lot anybody can do…"

"So you just gave up?" she stormed at him, rage at her own inadequacies joining in with her anger at Daniel. "Claire is dying, while you stand there and tell me that the "others" are more important than she is."

"That's not what I said," Daniel shouted back at her. "She's my daughter too, Sam. How can you even think that I don't care about her?" His face was red with anger, as he raged right back at her. "You think I want her to die? Is that it?"

"I don't know 'what' you want," she told him angrily. But she really did know, and her anger began to subside as she realized that she was being unreasonable, but Daniel had already grabbed his coat and stormed out the door before she could take back her words. She stared at the door for a moment, thinking of all the times when Daniel had come through for her, and how much he loved his children. He loved to take the kids on mock digs, looking for buried pottery and other ancient artifacts, while at the same time telling them stories about ancient gods and cultures that existed on Earth. Sam smiled as she remembered the bedtime stories he would tell the kids about the adventures he and Sam had gone on before they had been stranded in this place. He usually told the stories while they were all sitting around the fireplace at night, which gave Sam the opportunity to add in her own memories of those days. She had loved those times; the love and the close bond that they all shared made her life worth living.

Yet, here she was, accusing him of not caring. She stared at the door for a moment, debating on whether she should go find Daniel and apologize. No, she thought, as she looked down at the cup in her hand. Her daughter needed her more. She would do whatever she could to keep her child alive. She would talk to Daniel when he came back.

She moved quietly to her daughter's bed, smiling slightly as she heard the unmistakable sound of an axe sinking into a piece of wood. Daniel was out chopping wood. He hadn't left her totally alone after all.

* * *

The light from the candle painted streaks of yellow and white throughout the room. She had always loved watching the flickering lights as they danced along the walls and the ceiling. She watched them as she remembered her father telling her stories about his homeland. He had said that candles were thought to symbolize god by some religions, and she wondered if this candle symbolized the god her mother was praying to. 

She looked over to see her mother kneeling on the floor next to her bed with her eyes closed and her mouth moving with words that could not be heard. Her mother had often told her that although she had been raised to believe in a god, it had been a long time since she had really thought about it. They had tried not to say too much about the gods that the people in the village worshipped, but Claire knew her parents didn't believe in them. Still, she wondered which god the candle in her room symbolized.

She didn't wonder for long. She closed her eyes against the light and willed herself not to swallow. But the urge was too strong and she moaned as agony wracked her body. Her mother was there in an instant, making soothing noises, while trying to help her sit up.

"I have something here that's going to make you feel better," her mother told her, but the movement caused her to cough, and she leaned into her mother's chest as the cough rattled through her own body, creating a burning agony that she hated more than anything. Her mother held her tightly as she cried, her fingers caressing her face in an effort to soothe her.

"Here, drink some of this. It will make you feel better. I promise."

She didn't want to drink anything. She knew the pain that came with swallowing. "No," she cried, as she shook her head weakly. "It hurts."

But her mother was insistent. "Just a few sips. Please baby. Do it for mama, please?" Her mother was crying again. She hated to be the one to make her mother cry, but she hated the agony that would come with swallowing even more. She finally gave in and tried to take a sip, tears springing up when the pain in her throat flared up again. Her mother continued to coax her to drink "one more sip" until she had almost finished everything in the cup. Tears streamed down her face once again, and she began to cry when the urge to cough rose up in her chest. She didn't want to do this anymore.

* * *

The air was crisp and damp, as Daniel stormed out the door. Although the winter storms had long since died out to give way to spring rains, the weather was still raw enough to cause Daniel to pull up the lapels of his coat as he trudged over to the woodpile. There really wasn't anything else for him to do, and they were going to need more wood to keep the house warm and cozy for Claire. Besides, he needed something physical to beat the crap out of to help him deal with his anger. 

He grabbed the axe and a piece of wood, intending to get the job done and over with. He hefted the axe, then drove it deep into the log, splitting it nearly in two with the force of the swing. He couldn't understand what had happened to his marriage. He and Sam had been happy at first, once they had taken their friendship to a deeper level, and marriage seemed to be the next step, especially since they had just about given up hope on being rescued. Then the kids came along to make their lives complete, and they had settled into their new lives with a vengeance.

But lately, maybe over the last year or so, something had changed. They were still a family, and most days were spent in tranquility, but sometimes Daniel got the feeling that Sam was holding back. He was afraid that he was losing her and he didn't know what to do to keep her with him.

Another swing of the axe, and the log was split in two. He grabbed another log and set it on the stump, before swinging the axe again, as anger and grief moved to the forefront. His daughter was dying and he had done everything he could think of to get one of the healers to come to help. To hear Sam talk, Daniel might as well as had been taking a walk in the woods. How could she think that he didn't care about their little girl, the child who had sealed his happiness with her first tears? Daniel continued to split the wood, as he sorted through memories of his children, as well as the feelings of love that settled into his very being. He loved his family deeply, and for Sam to think that he didn't care was like a kick in the gut.

He had built up a sweat as he worked through his anger and his thoughts. And as much as he hated to even admit to them, his tears mixed in with the sweat. He didn't want to lose his daughter. He remembered the day she was born. He had been there helping Sam fight through her labor to give birth, then sat by her side as the midwife busied herself with cleaning up the mess. Sam had gone to sleep not long after the tender moments they had spent as they admired their new baby, giving Daniel the opportunity to spend a few hours to get to know his daughter. He had sat there next to the bed and stared at his sleeping baby, wondering at the deep love he harbored for the child in his arms. It didn't seem right that now, seven years later, she would be taken from him.

He stopped working long enough to wipe the sweat and the tears from his face, then went back to chopping wood with a vengeance. Sam was just upset, he reasoned, as he tried one more time to understand her accusations. Who could blame her? He certainly didn't, now that he thought about it. The plague didn't care one way or the other who it killed. It wouldn't have gone far if they had been on Earth. Modern medicines and other cures would have stopped the plague in its tracks, and Daniel wouldn't be facing the rest of his life without his daughter. But they weren't on Earth, he reminded himself sternly. They had been stranded on this planet, and he wondered, not for the first time, what had happened to keep the others from finding them. His friends, Jack and Teal'c, would have resorted to violence if they had to in order to find a ship to come to get their stranded teammates. But nobody had come to the rescue, which meant that something bad must have happened to keep them from following up on the rescue. Still, Daniel hadn't given up hope that one day, someone would come and take him and his family back to Earth. A little too late, he thought, as his mind went back to dwell on his grief.

It seemed to Daniel that his family was falling apart and he didn't know what to do to prevent it. He stopped chopping and worked on stacking up the wood, keeping a few logs out to take into the house with him. They were going to need the wood while they kept their vigil next to Claire's bed.

The main room was empty when he got in. He put the wood in the box next to the fireplace, then took off his coat to hang up next to the door. He was heading for his daughter's room when Sam came out and stood there staring at him.

Oh God, Daniel thought, as his fears moved into his mind. Not yet. He hadn't even said good-bye. He stared at his wife, feeling hot tears well up in his eyes, then held her tightly when she walked straight into his arms.

"I'm so sorry, Daniel," she said through her tears. "I didn't mean any of that stuff I said earlier." She made a sound like a sob, then said, "I'm just so scared."

"I know," Daniel said, as he kissed her hair. Relief flowed through him when he realized that his daughter was still alive. He wasn't ready to let her go just yet. "Me too."

She pulled back to look into his face, her eyes reflecting her sorrow. "I know you did your best." Daniel nodded, while she continued, "They can be so stubborn." She reached up to brush his hair back from his face, before moving her gaze to his eyes. "I love you Daniel. More than life itself."

He smiled at her admission, knowing that they still had a chance to make things right. "I love you too, Sam," he said, watching as she smiled through her tears. He pulled her back into his embrace, then said, "We'll get through this, I promise." She nodded against his shoulder, while Daniel told her, "I need you more than ever right now, okay? We need each other."

Sam's response was to hug him tighter. Daniel hugged her back, relishing in the warmth of her love, and hoping it would be enough to get him through this illness, and God forbid, his grief. He pulled back, then said, "I'd better go sit with Claire for awhile." Sam nodded, as she wiped her nose with a handkerchief, then followed him as he went to say his good-byes.

* * *

"Hey baby," her father said, as he came in to sit down next to her. She smiled at him, but she was too tired to respond. Her mother came in and sat down on the bed, smiling sadly and trying hard to convey that all was well. And it seemed that maybe she was right. Her throat didn't hurt as much when she swallowed. She was too afraid to find out what happened when she coughed though, so she lay there and took her mother's word for it, while her father continued to talk to her. "How are you feeling?" 

She wanted to respond, but the light flickering on the wall behind his head had attracted her attention, and she stared at it, admiring the warm yellow splashes that enhanced the color of the ceiling.

"Is that God?" she asked softly, wondering which god that light reflected. Her parents looked startled, but both turned to look to see what she was seeing.

"Claire?" her mother asked when she had turned back toward the bed. She sounded scared and she was crying again, which was not what Claire wanted. She wanted them to be happy.

"The light," she tried again, hoping to cheer them up by making them understand. But her father was looking away, and she could see the deep sadness in his face as he fought against his own tears. "It's pretty," she said to once more make them happy.

Her mother nodded at her, while she tried to smile, but Claire could see the tears sliding down her cheeks. Her father reached over touch her forehead, soothing his fingers over her fevered brow and smiled at her, as well. "Very pretty," he told her, as his eyes roamed over her face. She knew he was talking about her, and she smiled at his words. "I love you Claire," he told her, as a tear leaked out from his eyes. "You're my whole life."

"Don't be sad," she whispered sleepily. "I love you too."

"I'm not sad," her father said. She knew better, but was too tired to argue. She closed her eyes against the flickering candlelight, and tried hard not to swallow. She did anyway, grimacing at the pain when she did. It didn't seem to hurt so bad anymore, and she was glad that she had sipped that tea her mother had made for her.

"Sleep my little one," her mother said soothingly. "Everything's going to be all right. I promise."

Claire nodded, then opened her eyes to gaze upon her parents one more time. They were sitting side by side next to her bed, with her father stroking his fingers over her forehead and her mother holding her hand, and Claire felt at peace. The shadows of the light on the wall seemed to dim, and she closed her eyes to sleep, realizing that her mother was right. Everything really was going to be all right.

TBC in Part 2


	2. Chapter 2

Warm weather had finally come to Sam's world. She stood there in the clearing, and lifted her face to the sun, while the scent of wild flowers swept over her. It was a beautiful day, but Sam could find no pleasure in it. 

Daniel came up to her from behind and slipped his arms around her waist, while resting his chin on her shoulder, and she relished in his closeness. Their love had seemed to strengthen with Claire's illness, and Sam was grateful for his presence, taking comfort that he was dealing with the same thing she was going through. Their mutual grief seemed to bring them closer together.

Sam brought up her hand to run her fingers through his hair, as she stared out at the preparations for the mass funeral. Their friends and neighbors were burying their dead, and although Sam knew she was being selfish, she still hated the fact that her precious daughter had been taken by the dreaded plague. It just didn't seem fair.

"You okay?" Daniel asked quietly. She nodded her head, although her tears betrayed her actions. She didn't think she would ever be okay. He bent his head to kiss her neck, then pulled away to stand beside her. Sam looked down when a small hand had grabbed hers, and she smiled through her tears at her son as he stared up at her. His wide blue eyes watched her, while his blonde hair shone brightly in the sun. Her heart lurched as she realized how close she had come to losing him as well. It was only by a stroke of fate that the plague had left him and the rest of her family alone.

She tightened her grip and turned to watch as the men in the village went through the final rituals that were supposed to chase away the evils of death. Sam knew that these were just ceremonial rites that had existed for centuries in this village, a far cry from the funerals she had attended on Earth. A graveside service would have been nice, but Sam knew that she was lucky to get this. The plague had wiped out 60 percent of the population, and the elders were all for dumping the dead into a hole dug into the dirt and burned without so much as a good-bye. The survivors had put up a fight, which was good, Sam supposed. At least her daughter wouldn't be treated like garbage.

Instead, the bodies were wrapped up in blankets and laid next to each other on several wooden platforms, while their clothing, bedding and anything else the families wanted to contribute were piled up underneath the platforms. Anything that had been contaminated by the sick person was brought out to this meadow to make sure that no one else would become ill. Sam had brought her daughter's beloved doll and had placed it on Claire's body, knowing that she would have wanted it. More tears spilled down her cheeks as she watched the wind play with the doll's dress. Claire had fashioned the dress with an old scarf that had belonged to Sam, and she could still remember Claire's pride as she showed her mother what she had made. Sam brought her free hand up to her mouth to stop the sob that threatened to escape. Daniel put his arm around her waist again, and pulled her close, and she nodded at him to tell him once again that she was okay. She wasn't sure if he believed her, but she was too miserable to care.

The elders were taking turns in speaking over the bodies, their words bringing no comfort to Sam. They spoke of death and plagues, of life and hope, but Sam barely heard them. She was thinking of the night that Claire had died, and how she had spoke of seeing God in the glimmer of light given off by the candle. It wasn't until later that Daniel remembered telling Claire how candles were sometimes a symbol of God's light in some religions, and they had agreed that Claire was probably referring to that when she had asked, "Is that God?" But there were times when Sam wondered if maybe her daughter really did see something in the shadows of her room, a presence that neither Daniel nor herself believed in, but still brought comfort to Sam, as she remembered resorting to prayer in hopes of saving her daughter. Maybe her prayers were answered after all. She wiped the tears off of her face with her hand as she shook her head. Whatever it was, it had brought comfort to her daughter before she died. That was what counted most.

The clothing and bedding were set on fire by the men who had performed the earlier preparations, and Sam watched as the flames built up to engulf the bodies on the platforms. The flames flared higher as Sam and the others watched in silence, the only sounds were the crackling of the wood as the platforms burned brightly. She stopped staring at the flames and looked around at the people who had accepted the original members of the SGC into their village. They had integrated into their new homes, learning to live among their new neighbors, some even marrying the natives, while a few had died over the years. Sam watched as Michael Clarke came over to stand in front of her and Daniel, his face reflecting his sorrow over their loss. Sam smiled sadly at him, while Daniel nodded his thanks, before both of them were pulled into a hug by the ex-Captain of the U.S. Air Force. Sam hugged him back, then pulled away to smile at him again, then hugged Michael's wife, Calla, before turning back to watch the fire as they walked away.

They stood there for a long time as the blaze burned everything that had been touched by the plague, everything except for the hearts of those who had survived. Sam watched as the flames licked upward, sending smoke swirling toward the heavens, while the acrid smell invaded her nostrils. Her daughter was gone, but the rest of her family had survived. There was still hope of a future for them.

"Mama," Ethan said, as he tugged on her hand. She looked down to see him jumping from one leg to the other, obviously needing to find a bathroom very soon. "I gotta go."

She gave him a small smile, while Daniel let her go to grab their son's hand. "I'll take him," he said, more than willing to give Sam more time. But Sam shook her head, and turned to follow them out of the clearing.

"I'm ready," she told him, as she walked along with them. She turned one last time to look at the smoke rising up to the sky, tears welling up in her eyes, as she whispered, "Good-bye my little angel."

Daniel's grief was evident in his face, when she turned back to smile at him. She pulled him into a hug, holding him closely, knowing that it would be a long time before they would ever really be ready. Still she had faith that they would move past this initial grief and learn to be happy again. They had each other and they had Ethan. Their little family had survived yet another hardship, although this one took more than Sam had been willing to give. But they had survived and now it was time to move on, so she took Ethan's other hand and headed back toward the home they had built together.

* * *

A ship had been sighted over the village, flying low then out of sight. Daniel had immediately gone to find Michael Clarke and the other members of the team that had come with them through the Stargate to investigate. Sam stayed behind, mainly because she figured it was probably just some traders looking for goods. She had long since given up hope on Tok'ra, Tollan or even a Tau'ri vessel coming to the rescue. Besides, there was always the danger that the ship was manned by a Goa'uld or something just as evil, and she was not about to leave Ethan in a neighbor's care. So she stayed behind, digging up vegetables in the garden, ever ready to grab her son and run for safety if the situation arose. 

She pulled up a turnip-like vegetable as she thought of her son. She had become a little overprotective of Ethan ever since her daughter's death several months ago. Her grief was still too fresh for her to let go, and she worried that something would happen if she were not around to keep him safe. Daniel had understood, although he still tried to help her give the child some slack. Sam wasn't so sure she wanted to.

The child in question was looking at something in the ground by the edge of the garden, poking at whatever it was with a stick. Sam smiled at him as he prodded his discovery. He was such a beautiful child, she thought fondly. He had her coloring, but he still had his father's eyes, and Sam turned her attention back to her work as her thoughts dwelled on her husband.

Claire's death had brought them closer than ever before. The bonds of her marriage seemed to have strengthened as they dealt with their mutual grief and despair. She wasn't sure what it was that had brought about the courage to deal with their problems, but she was glad that they had settled down into a deeper relationship. She really did love her husband.

A noise distracted her from her musing, and she looked up to see a group of men heading her way. Panic rose up in her heart, and she immediately looked over at her son, determined to save him at all cost. But Ethan had also seen the men and he had jumped up to run out to greet them. "Daddy," he yelled, as he started to run, scaring Sam half to death. She reached out and grabbed him as he ran past, pulling him into her arms to hold him fast. Sam didn't recognize half of the men, and she was not going to let Ethan just run on up to them until she was sure all was safe.

"Sam!" Daniel shouted, easing some of her worries. He wouldn't call attention to her if he had been in trouble. She stayed where she was though; hardly daring to believe that maybe the rescue they had dreamed of for so long was at hand. Excitement rose up in her soul when the group came closer. Daniel and Michael were smiling at her, along with the man who walked between them, a man she had once known all those years ago, long before her forced exile.

"Oh my God," Sam whispered, as she stared at them in shock. Her son twisted around to look up into her face, but Sam barely noticed. She was staring at the man whose hair was completely gray and looked a lot older than the last time she had seen him. But he had the same smile, the same walk, and tears of joy sprang up in her eyes when she realized that she was finally going home.

"Hello Carter," the man said, grinning broadly at her. "Surprised to see me?"

Sam could only nod her head, as she stared at her former commanding officer. Jack O'Neill had certainly grown older, but that wasn't what had her standing there with her mouth open. She hadn't really expected to ever be rescued.

"You okay?" Daniel asked, as he came over to put his arm around her shoulder. Sam nodded, still staring at the group of men, unable to think of a single thing to say.

"I'm doing well, thank you for asking," O'Neill said with a huge grin.

His words finally got through to Sam, and she grinned sheepishly before saying, "Sorry, I'm just so surprised to see you. I didn't think we would ever…" She stopped for a second as her mind finally kicked into gear, then said, "Where were you all this time? What took you so long?"

"That was the first thing I asked him," Daniel said, as he leaned in toward her. "Something about politicians and the world overrun by aliens…"

"Big aliens," O'Neill said in way of an explanation. "Nasty creatures," he added with an overly exaggerated shudder that had Sam smiling at him, then went on to say, "We kicked their asses though. Nothing left of them to even take pictures of. Once they were taken care of, I had spent the last two years begging the bigwigs in what was left of Washington to let me take one of the ships to come get you."

"The SGC?"

"Gone." He looked out past them toward the village then said, "We barely made it out of there in time." He shrugged then told them, "If it makes you feel any better, Teal'c was visiting Rya'c at the time. He was stranded, just as you were."

"Oh, much better," Daniel said sarcastically, which brought the smile back to Jack's face.

"Glad to be of service."

Sam smiled back at him. It had been years since she had last seen him, and he had to have gone through so much in the battle to save Earth, but he still had the same sense of humor that had made her laugh when they were a team. She was glad when she realized that some things never change.

"I'm sorry it took so long," O'Neill said as his expression sobered. He stood there looking from Sam to Daniel and back again, before adding, "They destroyed most of the major cities on Earth and we spent every waking moment fighting back. We managed to confiscate a few of their ships, but we couldn't spare the manpower or a ship to send one out to get you, and well…," he looked down at the ground for a moment, then said, "You guys were much safer here anyway."

Sadness overtook Sam once again as she thought about the price they'd had to pay for their "safety". Sure, they had been lucky to avoid the attacks on their home world, but she wasn't so sure that their life in their new home had been any better, especially after their daughter's death. Still, she knew better than anybody what war could do to the people involved. Innocent people didn't always survive those battles either.

"We came as soon as we could, Sam," he said, his intense gaze practically begging her to understand. She really did understand. Ethan twisted beneath her fingers, and Sam realized once again that she was glad that they had survived everything to have him with them. She nodded at O'Neill to let him know that she understood, which brought on his smile again. "So who's this little guy?"

"Ethan," the child in her grasp, said timidly.

"This is our son, Jack," Daniel said proudly. O'Neill looked up and gave them a questioning glance, as he took in Daniel's arm around her shoulder, then at Ethan who was still in his mother's grasp. Sam gave him a guilty smile, while Daniel shrugged and told him, "We really didn't think we were ever going to be rescued."

O'Neill stared at them for a moment, his eyes revealing nothing of his thoughts, then smiled broadly at her as he came up to hug her. "Congratulations you two," he crowed, as he let go of Sam and crushed Daniel in a hug. "I always knew that there was something…"

"Come off it Jack," Daniel said, as he smiled back at his friend. "You did not."

"Yeah," O'Neill said in a child-like way, his grin now turned onto Ethan. "Your dad and I used to work together. I was the one who taught him how to fight."

Ethan was now looking at the man with a renewed interest, while Daniel rolled his eyes. Sam decided that she'd better break this up before they went off into their old spiel of trying to be the one who got in the last word in. "Come on into the house. I can make some dinner while you tell us all about the war."

"Are you the Jack who went on all those 'ventures with my dad?" Ethan wanted to know, while he followed Sam into the house. Sam couldn't help the smile that showed up, as she smiled at her husband. He shook his head with mock resignation, his own smile lighting up his face. O'Neill was sure to put his own slant onto the stories Daniel had told by the fireplace, but Sam didn't mind. They were going home.

It was time.

* * *

She was thinking the same thing the next day, as she stared out at the little memorial they had set up after their daughter's death. She was going home to Earth, a little unsure of what she would find there after the devastation inflicted by an intergalactic war, but still it was good to know that she could still call it home. 

The wildflowers that had bloomed earlier in the year still left a fragrant trail of Spring as a breeze tugged at the strands of Sam's hair. The memorial had been set in a little box built into the ground by logs that Daniel had split, and was framed by flowers that were still in bloom. They had placed a cross in the middle of the box, with Claire's name emblazoned across the horizontal piece. Sam stood in front of the memorial, trying hard not to cry as she said her final good-byes to her firstborn child.

The tears came anyway, silently sliding down her cheeks. Sam didn't bother wiping them away. Instead, she folded her arms across her chest and closed her eyes against the pain raging in her heart. Her daughter had died, and now Sam was faced with leaving her daughter's memorial behind. It was the only true reminder that she'd had and she mourned over the loss.

Still she knew she couldn't stay here. There were more things to consider, deeper desires that had to be fulfilled. She thought of her son and how he had been enthralled with the stories his father and their friend, who had insisted that she call him Jack, had told him last night, while Sam began packing for the trip. Daniel had wanted to help, but Ethan's begging gave her the incentive to shake her head. So she gathered up the items that they were going to take with them while listening to the stories that Jack related, new stories that Ethan had never heard before. Jack O'Neill had garnered yet another new friend by the time a dozing Ethan had been carried off to bed.

She thought of her husband, and how they had grown even closer in the last few months. Daniel had opened up to her, telling her of his fears and of his grief, giving Sam the inspiration she needed to understand her own feelings for her husband. She'd had the same fears, and they had discussed their terror and their grief, relying on each other for support when their tears were too much too handle. They had come to terms with their marriage, and they had become stronger because of it.

She stared at the memorial, knowing in her heart which was the right path to take, and thinking that maybe she should take a few pictures with one of the cameras the crew from Earth had brought with them. She was so lost in thought that she was surprised when a voice spoke up behind her.

"You don't have to come back with us if you don't want to."

She turned to see Jack standing there, steadily watching her as she grieved. She tried to ignore the flash of resentment that stemmed from his intrusion, and was marginally successful – the small smile that she gave him was real. "I don't have a choice," she said, as she turned back toward the memorial.

He didn't respond at first, which didn't surprise Sam. He never really was very good at this kind of thing. She glanced over at him when he walked up to stand next to her, and she found that she wasn't so resentful after all.

"It's hard losing a child," he said, the wistful note in his voice, bringing more tears to Sam's eyes. "Sometimes it's not so hard to live with, and then there are times when the pain never goes away." Sam nodded at his words. Her heart had been permanently scarred. Nothing would ever ease the pain. "The memories hang around though," he told her. She turned to look at him, only to find he was staring off into the distance. "You never forget."

Sam put her hand on his arm, the need to comfort him overwhelming her own pain. He had lost his own son, she remembered, and when she looked into his eyes, she saw the raw pain eating away at his soul. She now knew what he had gone through in the past whenever he had thought of his son. He had his own scars to deal with.

But she didn't know what to say to him. She stared out at the spot that had caught his attention, not really seeing the landscape, while trying to think of the right words to comfort him. He didn't need it apparently, as he turned back to her and said, "Anyway, if you'd rather stay here, no one would blame you."

"No," Sam said, as she adamantly shook her head. "We have to go. Earth is our home, and besides there's Ethan to think about." He nodded, although she wasn't sure he understood. "These people don't have the medicines to fight off plagues and other illnesses." She hugged herself tighter as she shivered in the breeze. "Ethan may not be immune to the next one."

Jack nodded as he gave her a sad smile. He understood, she realized, as she smiled back. And Sam was ready to leave, to go back to Earth, even if it meant leaving behind a memorial for a child of her heart. She was going back to a planet that had nearly been destroyed and was in the process of being rebuilt from the ground up. Sam was up to the challenge. She'd had to rebuild her life in this primitive place; she could do it again on Earth where technologies abound. And she wasn't going to face the hardships alone. Her husband, Daniel, would be there to help, and now her friend, Jack. Together they could build a new life, all they needed was the willingness to succeed.

Her smile grew as she thought about her future. It had suddenly become brighter, filled with the promise of a new life and she knew that no matter what, they were going to a much better place. She looked over at the memorial, so stark against the wildflowers and realized that Jack was right. She would never forget. Claire had been a part of Sam's life for seven years. She had plenty of memories.

She turned to look at her old friend, and gave him an encouraging smile, then linked her arm in his when he offered her it to her. They walked back through the flowers toward their future, and to life, and after all these years, Sam was finally going home.

The End


End file.
